


Day 23: Spanking

by Aichi



Series: Kinktober 2020 [23]
Category: Cardfight!! Vanguard
Genre: Light Bondage, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:55:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27573425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aichi/pseuds/Aichi
Summary: Aichi is new to this kind of play, but it's hard not to see the appeal when Kai's reactions are so cute.
Relationships: Kai Toshiki/Sendou Aichi
Series: Kinktober 2020 [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951588
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	Day 23: Spanking

**Author's Note:**

> I Heard You Guys Like Kaiai, So, Hello,
> 
> This is, I think, what we call "kink without plot".

_Deep breaths,_ Aichi tells himself. _You can do this. Just like Ren told you_.

Getting Kai into position is easy enough. He lies obediently over Aichi’s lap, forehead resting against the bed, and brings his arms back so Aichi can clip his wrist cuffs together behind him. The deep red leather rests stark against pale, flushed skin, and somehow makes Kai look even more vulnerable than he already does, face-down and naked with his dark hair tousled against the bedsheets, a gentle shiver in his shoulders.

“Good,” Aichi murmurs, a reassurance for more than one of them, and runs his fingers over the curve of his partner’s ass, finding the gentle crease where the cheek meets the upper thigh. Kai’s breath hisses between clenched teeth, and lithe muscles tense below the soft surface of his skin. His thighs part, just slightly, willing but not confident, and Aichi’s own heart tightens in his chest. It’s truly unbelievable that Kai doesn’t realize how _beautiful_ he is.

Keeping a firm pressure under his palm, Aichi slowly maps the surface of Kai’s thighs and ass, paying particular attention to the inside of his legs — _just_ close enough to his crotch to make him shudder, but no closer. Digging his fingers into the skin, Aichi kneads and rolls it like a stress toy, which is something he could _definitely_ use right now, because the inside of his chest is all twisted into weird knots, and he’s only really half-focused on his hands as he rolls the heel of his palm against Kai’s cheek. Something insistent and impatient buzzes beneath the surface of his own skin, and the shaft noticeably hardening against his thigh only makes it more eager.

The fingers of his free hand twine into Kai’s hair, a grounding connection for both of them — and then Aichi lifts his palm and brings it down on Kai's ass with a sharp _smack_.

Kai jerks, whole body stiffening like a board, then just as suddenly falls limp again.

“Count,” Aichi says, wishing he could have even a tenth of Ren’s confidence and authority. Ren is so _good_ at this; domination comes to him as naturally as a rose blossoming in the sunlight, and Aichi can’t help but feel like an embarrassingly unbloomed bud in comparison. “Please,” he adds.

“One,” Kai grunts, and the word cuts _straight_ to the innermost depths of Aichi’s soul.

His body moves almost automatically; he raises his palm and hits Kai again, on the other cheek this time.

“Two.” The number is unmistakable, even half-moaned between gritted teeth. “Three.”

Again and again, Aichi brings his hand down on Kai’s ass, the slap of skin against skin interspersed with loose, nervous breaths. Kai doesn’t miss a beat, counting each hit even as his buttocks and thighs begin to redden; the rest of his skin shifts too, his back and neck bright with the sheen of sweat, of stress, but still he keeps counting, strict and dedicated, which is _just like him_ , really. Aichi’s hand starts to tingle too, the jolt of each strike shooting through his wrist like a clap of thunder, but the shuddering of the body in his lap and the crimson glow spreading over Kai’s ass are _so_ worth it. For a moment, they become the center of each other’s world, and Aichi is witness to a bareness, an _openness_ that Kai so rarely shows.

Getting to know, to _see_ Kai like this is an honor and a privilege, one that Aichi can’t be sure he’s really worthy of, but no one short of Kai himself has the power to tear it away from him now.

“Nineteen.” Kai’s voice and breath grow ragged, but the numbers keep coming nonetheless.

There’s a pattern to his responses that becomes more and more visible with each hit; Aichi’s hand pulls back, and Kai tenses, anticipating, then catches himself and tries to relax in a cycle that keeps his muscles visibly shifting and straining. Then, the strike lands — Aichi tries to vary exactly _where_ , to keep the reactions fresh and raw and _genuine_ — and Kai gasps, a shocked little cry that edges towards a yelp. His body spasms, jerks forward as if trying to escape, and his fingers curl as his wrists strain reflexively against their bonds — and then, just as quickly, the moment passes, and he goes slack again as if suddenly exhausted.

Then, he counts: _twenty_ , _twenty-five_ , _thirty_ , and it’s there that Aichi pauses.

Kai, of course, tenses again, and whines softly when the next swat doesn’t come. When Aichi does lay a hand on him, he flinches, muscle memory clenching his fists and hardening his spine, but as Aichi’s fingertips trace slow, gentle circles over his tender skin, he starts to relax, and even arches up into the touch. He’s practically glowing with heat, as if his blood were burning just beneath the surface.

Without thinking, Aichi slaps him one more time, and the shared shock ripples through both of them in unison.

“Thirty-one,” Kai gasps.

Aichi runs shaky fingers through his hair, and is surprised to find his own reply equally breathless. “Sorry,” he says, a nervous laugh in his voice. “That’s the last one, I promise.”

“...Thank you.” Kai’s response is muffled against the sheets, and it’s not clear if he’s talking about Aichi’s promise to stop or simply speaking in general.

There’s a small tub of lotion on their nightstand — Ren’s recommendation, of course — and Aichi busies himself with it, scooping some onto his fingers and spreading a broad, creamy streak across Kai’s bright red skin. It’s refreshingly cool, even on just his fingertips, so he rubs a little into his own palms as well before massaging the rest into Kai’s flesh, tracing the stiffened lines of his muscles beneath the skin. Slowly but surely, they start to loosen, softening like butter under a midday sun, and Aichi rubs him in broad, firm circular motions, soothing both of them as he luxuriates in the way the flesh sinks and dips under pressure.

Even with the lull of relaxation starting to seep through him, Kai is still something to behold; his arms sag in their cuffs, the red leather now looking much more at home against his skin, and his chest rises and falls over Aichi’s thigh with an irregularity betraying still-frazzled nerves. He’s still erect, as well, and a small patch on Aichi’s pants is damp with his trickling arousal, but it’s not important to either of them — not yet.

Kai’s head doesn’t move as Aichi strokes his hair, but he lets out a soft, contented murmur that vibrates through his entire bedraggled body, and it hits Aichi, like he’s been slapped himself, how _fragile_ his partner looks; not just now, but always, like all his hardness is just a rough-hewn porcelain shell, an armor growing brittle and strained and cracked after years of fighting. A warmth grows under Aichi’s own skin, but it’s gentle, protective, and he wishes he could wrap Kai in it like a blanket, hold him close and let him know how _marvelous_ he is, how wonderful he looks when he’s letting himself just _react_ , in the simplest of ways, existing without locking everything away.

“I’m proud of you,” Aichi settles for, “so, so proud.”

And then, because Ren’s advice has been right so far, he adds: “Now, do you think you can do thirty more?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks, Ren.
> 
> We're really getting down to the Prompts I Have No Ideas For now, folks.
> 
> Twitter: @cosmowreath


End file.
